


turns out freedom means nothing but missing you

by Lesty



Series: Self-Indulgent Petty Revenge Fics [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Back to December, Death, M/M, Song fic, alex is sad, based of taylor swifts song, he has survivors guilt, hella angst, i dunno if i wrote this well, idek what im doing, welp angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/pseuds/Lesty
Summary: Why is it that the most beautiful things are never around for long?You gave me roses and I left them there to die





	turns out freedom means nothing but missing you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fanfictiongreenirises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/gifts).



> un-beta'd whoops

Alexander took a shuddering breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m so glad you made time to see me, how’s life? Tell me about your family.” He paused, realising the irony. John hadn’t had communication with his family for a long time “Sorry. It’s just, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

There was silence for a moment, John waiting for him to continue his rant. God the man knew Alex so well, “You’ve been good right? I’ve been busier than ever, I’m secretary treasury now, wouldn’t you know.”

Alex paused, the tension in the air so thick you could slice through it with a butter knife. His body was rigid with nerves and he could tell John was the same. It was understandable really, why John’s guard was up, why he wasn’t speaking.

Alex looked down to the roses in his hand, “This is wrong isn’t it?” He shook his head slowly, “The last time you saw me, you gave me roses”, he paused, taking a shuddering breath, “and I left them there to die.”  
  
Alex choked for a moment, feeling bile rise up his throat. He blinked back unwanted tears, refusing to let them fall, “Look, this is me swallowing my pride.” He paused, trying to think of the words. He’d never been left speechless before, but in all honesty, no amount of preparation could prepare him for this. He sighed, deciding to speak whatever his heart told him to, “Standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for-” he took a sharp inhale of breath, refusing to think about all that had happened, “ _that_ night.” He sighed in defeat, “I try not to think about it but I can’t help it. I feel like I go back to December all the time.”

He chuckled coldly, “All this,” He gestured wildly around the cold field, “This so called freedom. Everything we fought for. Everything we died for?! Turns out it’s for nothing but missing you.”

“I wish I’d been smart enough to realise what I’d had when you were mine.”

He wanted to look up but refused, instead staring at his shoes. John was silent, as if prompting the caribbean to continue. He knew otherwise but Laf had told him to tell John everything, no matter how painful or shameful. He almost rolled his eyes at the memory, as if Laf would know anything. How could Laf know the feeling of being the one to cause everything. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and decided to take his friends advice anyway, “I know it probably doesn't matter, but ever since, I haven’t been sleeping. I guess that’s nothing new, but lately I’ve been staying up playing back myself leaving.”  
  
He groaned, god that was cheesy. “Fuck John, it’s all my fault. _I sent_ you out there. And you’ve been here. For so long and I haven’t come. Not for your birthday, not for your-” Alex stopped immediately, biting his tongue. No, he didn’t want to think about that. There were some anniversaries that were better left forgotten.

He scanned his memories for something better to talk about, his heart swelling as he landed on happier days, back when they had first met. He almost grinned remembering the two of them, “Do you remember that summer?” He smiled and could almost imagine John doing the same, “Man we had some beautiful times. Honestly meeting you in that bar, that was the best thing to ever happen in my life. Just receiving the blessing of seeing you laugh.”

He chewed on his lip, he almost felt like the young, flustered thing he was back then, “That laugh, that’s what made me realise I love you.” He chuckled, realising how foolish he was, but continued nevertheless, “I worked it out in autumn.”

He could almost hear John's laugh, could imagine John wrapping his arms around Alex and calling him an old fool. All that opportunity wasted and he had no one to blame but himself.

He grew angry, bitter “But no, the world was bigger than the two of us. Fate demanded us of different things. That blasted cold-” He threw the roses to the ground in a cheap attempt to release his frustration, what would it be if he dismissed another bouquet, “I’m ashamed to say that I leat fear creep into my mind. And you, my dearest John, gave me all your love and I... all I gave you was a goodbye.”

Alex took a deep breath and finally looked up, his breath caught in his throat as he looked at John’s eyes, shining full of mirth, and the dazzling amount of freckles that were scattered across his skin like the night sky, but were far brighter. His crown of curls pulled into a messy ponytail, many strands escaping the hold and framing his face perfectly. The moon shone behind him, giving him a cruel angelic effect.  
  
Alex’s resolve crumpled, his heart clenched and began thrumming wildly, his body tingled with nervous energy, his heart caught in his throat because _there_ John was. In all his glory. And Alex couldn’t handle it. Bile rose up which he quickly pushed down as a myriad of past memories and present emotions whirled in his brain like a hurricane.

“God I miss you!” He cried, letting his head fall on the stone in front of him. “Your tan skin, your freckles, your sweet, beautiful smile.” His lip wobbled as tears freely fell, he no longer cared about looking strong, all he felt was pure misery, “You were always so good to me, so right.” He clung his jacket tightly around himself, “Like September, the first time you ever saw me cry.”

“I know this is wishful thinking, mindless dreaming,” He looked up at John’s smiling face, “But if we could love again, I _swear_ I would love you right.”

John’s face remained unmoving and Alex dared to reach out. His heart caught in his throat as his hands came in contact with the cold glass protecting the image. He almost laughed at how pathetic he was, sitting here thinking that talking to a fucking photo would be enough to soothe his guilt.

His body went cold as he raised his head from the stone, refusing to look at the lettering below, he didn’t need to read the description, he knew what is said. His mind went back to the crumpled, aged letter in his pocket, almost a decade old, outlining the very details that would be written on the stone. The only correspondence Henry Laurens and Alexander Hamilton had ever had. “I’d go back in time and change if but-” He stopped, releasing another choked sob as he remembered reading about that dreaded night at Combahee River, a mission Alex had sent John out on himself, “I can’t.” he whispered.

“I’m sorry John. For sending you out with the all-black battalion. I’m sorry. I was the reason you were there that night.” He almost felt John squeeze his shoulder in comfort, as if it wasn’t his fault. But Alex knew that wasn’t true, Alex was the reason John was here, and he hadn’t had the courage to visit his love for almost a decade. Because Alexander Hamilton was a coward, choosing to send John to a battle that was always likely to be death, just to please him in his dreams of leading and all black battalion. “It was all my fault John. I’m sorry.”

He picked up the fallen roses from the side and placed them on the tombstone, they were still beautiful, despite the abusive treatment Alex had put them through. It was almost poetic in a way, a metaphor to John and Alexander's own relationship. For John really had been a rose, beautiful, but loving him had been dangerous. 

Alex sat there for a moment, staring at the roses that had already begun to wilt. Why did the most beautiful things have such a short time. Just like the roses Alex had let die, these too would die.

Just like John.

 

“I go back to December all the time.”

**Author's Note:**

> see my brogirrafes retaliation [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11724207)
> 
> hey, come scream at me on tumblr [here](https://lesty-xx.tumblr.com/)


End file.
